


You and me both

by hylander



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-13 18:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18474928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hylander/pseuds/hylander
Summary: Lucas gives him a look. He doesn’t want to say it aloud, and he doesn’t think he needs to either. There are, in fact, a whole bunch of reasons why the Demaurys could decide on not liking him, the most obvious involving weed, a houseboat and their son running naked in the streets.OR; Lucas meets Eliott's family for the first time and spends his first family weekend in ages.





	1. Samedi

**SAMEDI, 9:45**

“What if they  _don’t_  like me?”, Lucas blurts out on their way to the Gare-de-Lyon, and he automatically wants to crush his face against the closest newsstand.

There’s a fine line between being insecure as fuck and being the whiny mess that always complains about it, and most days, Lucas is able to swallow it down until it’s just a churn in the pit of his stomach. Keywords being, ‘most days’.

Eliott spares him a glance, discarding his phone for a while. His grey eyes narrow as his body shifts towards him. “Why on Earth wouldn’t they like you?”

Lucas gives him a look. He doesn’t want to say it aloud, and he doesn’t think he needs to either. There are, in fact, a whole bunch of reasons  _why_  the Demaurys could decide on not liking him, the most obvious involving weed, a houseboat and their son running naked in the streets. Thing is, he knows that introducing him to his parents has been on Eliott’s mind for a while now, and- well, they’ve been together for a couple of months now, so it’s only logical for them to take that next step.  _Except_  that logic has nothing to do with one’s goddamn insecurities — that’s precisely why they can’t be treated with paracetamol and a gulp of water.

Eliott lets out a small sigh, and pulls him into a hug, wrapping his long arms around his shoulders and resting his chin on top of his head. “I know it’s hard but one day you’ll realize that people not liking you isn’t a default mode.”

Lucas snorts, but right now his face is pressed against Eliott’s collarbones and every single one of his senses is overwhelmed by a wave of  _Eliott_. Thank God no one they know is around, or they’d never let him get away with that — the last time Eliott mentioned that Lucas started crying at the bus stop, everyone became extra obnoxious about it and making stupid jokes about him being a duckling or a baby koala, depending on the day.

“C’mon,” Eliott says, freeing him from the embrace, but cupping his face long enough to peck him on the lips, “time to go.”

Eliott picks up the Adidas travel bag he had set down at his feet, when they had first stopped to check on the time and their platform (seconds before Lucas opened his stupid mouth and made a fool of himself), and reaches to grab his hand. Lucas finds himself smiling, a bit shyly, as they start striding through the crowd. They don’t really hold hands that often, generally Eliott flings an arm around his shoulders and they roll with it, but there’s something both extremely intimate and casual about his boyfriend tangling their fingers together — something that makes him feel warm and protected.

The Gare-de-Lyon is packed with people taking off for the weekend, but they manage to make it on time, and to find a compartment that is as close from quiet as they can hope for. They’ve been sitting for five minutes when Eliott flips his sketchbook open and starts drawing, while Lucas fishes in his backpack to find his earbuds and play some music. Their train ride to Reims isn’t long, about two hours, and in the meantime, Lucas makes a point of remembering the things he knows about the Demaurys without freaking out at the thought of them being, technically, his  _in-laws_  — there’s something so adult and mature in these tiny words that make Lucas want to remind everyone he’s just 17.

The family had lived in Paris for most of Eliott’s life, but his father, who had been teaching History at the University of Reims for over a decade, suggested that the family moved there after Eliott had failed to take the BAC. “They thought a change of scenery would be ‘good for me’,” Eliott had explained once, mimicking the quotation marks, then he added: “They had just found out what was wrong with me, so of course after that they wanted to baby-proof everything. We stayed in Reims for the whole summer, Lucille was gone for a family trip abroad, my friends rather wanted me far than close, so… yeah, having my parents bugging me all day long kind of-  _fucked me up_ , I guess. They sent me back to Paris the following September and you know the rest.”

Lifting his head off the headrest, Lucas turns to Eliott, suddenly haunted by a thought that just crossed his mind. “What’s your sister’s boyfriend like?”

Eliott glances up from his sketchbook, his back resting against the window of their carriage. As usual, it takes a second for him to leave the little space his mind has gone wandering while drawing, then he shrugs. “Thomas? He’s okay, I guess. We don’t exactly hang out together, you know, because we’re in Paris and there’s this shit-ton of kilometers between us and them, but yeah, if Clémence likes him I think he must be decent on a daily basis.”

That’s  _so_  very comforting, Lucas cringes internally. Eliott isn’t really the most observant one when he doesn’t feel like he needs to be (details are overwhelming at times), so it can mean everything and its contrary at this point. He startles when Eliott pokes him on the cheek with his pencil.

“Don’t overthink everything, it’s going to be fine,” he says, grinning. “They’ve asked plenty of stuff about you, and I already told my dad to back off because History isn’t your thing.”

Lucas’ eyes widen in horror. “You’ve told him that I don’t give a fuck about the  _one thing he cares about the most_?” Fuck he’s screwed, he’s not going to make it through the weekend. He wonders briefly what would be the penalty for trying to stop the train, but he guesses reluctantly that it’s probably not worth the shot anyway.

“Lulu, unless you’re saying that the Man in the Iron Mask was either Fouquet or Louis XIV’s twin brother, I very much doubt that it’s going to be enough for my dad to hate you,” Eliott adds nonchalantly, the faint sound of his pencil scrapping against the page of his sketchbook returning. Lucas blinks, and his fingers are already unlocking his phone and nervously typing away when Eliott glances up, eyebrows shooting up. “Oh my god, stop! You don’t have to go all Wikipedia now!”

“But what if it comes up  _somehow_?”

Eliott laughs incredulously. “You seriously think it ever came up with Thomas ‘I work in retail for Kaporal’ Goncet?”

Okay, it seems fair enough to him, and Lucas locks his phone again. “If it does come up, it’s on you,” he threatens, eyeing him warily.

Eliott snorts and leans forward, tucking his sketchbook between his chest and his legs to kiss him on the cheek. He’s right, he shouldn’t be freaking out so much, and  _that’s_  a bit annoying, if Lucas is being honest. He just  _can’t_  help it, that horrible thought that keeps bubbling in his chest. He’s broke. He’s not able to take care of Eliott. He’s not on speaking terms with his dad, just barely starts making up with his mom, he’s younger and he’s  _a fucking boy_.

It seems like Eliott is sensing that whatever he can say won’t do it, so he just spins around onto his seat, finally sitting correctly, and wordlessly claims one of his earbuds. Lucas’ head finds its natural place onto Eliott’s shoulder, and his boyfriend waits for a total of three songs before fussing to choose the next one, which Lucas allows with a fond eye-roll.

*

**SAMEDI, 12:32**

It’s not until after spotting Clémence Demaury and her mom waiting for them at the train station that Lucas realizes how relieved he is that Eliott doesn’t have a bunch of younger siblings.

Don’t get him wrong, kids are fine. But as an only child without many family ties (his mom’s an only child as well and his dad isn’t on speaking terms with his only brother), the closest he’s been from a kid in recent years is Yann’s younger sister (who’s old enough to punch him in the face for even stating she’s a child), and the family of three living two floors away from the flat share.

In short? Children are not exactly his forte, and if you ask him, they are mildly intimidating.

The first interaction with the two women doesn’t go so bad, mostly because they are busy hugging his boyfriend to death for the first five minutes or so.

“Can you- Can you _not_ do that?” Eliott mumbles, trying to get away from his sister’s grip.

“I haven’t seen you in _forever_ , that’s basically my birthright,” Clémence fires back, unapologetic to the last degree as she squeezes her brother even more.

Eliott gives Lucas a pleading glance that makes him chuckle, and instantly there are two more sets of grey eyes drawn on him. He doesn’t really know what Eliott’s dad looks like, but there are already a lot of things Clémence and Eliott have in common that Lucas can track back to their mom, starting with the hair and the eyes. It feels strangely overwhelming, because he’s never really paid much attention to that sort of thing before, but now he just can’t _unsee_ it.

“Lucas, right? I’m Clémence, it’s nice to meet you,” Clémence says with a polite smile. It’s not one of those big-ass grins that make the Demaurys’ eyes crinkling, but right now he welcomes everything that doesn’t involve being yelled at or glanced over as a victory (self-esteem who _?)._

“Nice to meet you too,” he replies.

Eliott’s mom eyes him a split-second too long — long enough for his heartbeat to start picking up. “Caroline. Nice to meet you.” And without transition she turns to Eliott, her gaze softening before Lucas even has the time to blink. “I was worried you’d get delayed, I’m glad you made it in time sweetie.”

“Let’s get home, I’m starving and Dad will want to hear about the details anyway,” Clémence chimes in.

_Oh fuck, that’s just the first half_ , Lucas thinks, barely holding back a groan. Eliott slings an arm around his shoulders, startling him slightly, and beams at him as they’re heading out for the parking lot.

The trip to the Demaurys’ sees Caroline and her daughter bicker about a variety of things, which allows Eliott and him to talk a little between themselves at the back. It’s the first time he’s finding himself in Reims (the first time in a while he’s leaving Paris at all, to be completely honest), so he just takes some time to glance through the window every now and then to ease himself a bit. Eliott draws soft patterns onto his knee in the meantime, and that’s almost enough to make him forget it’s just the beginning of a very long weekend of basically watching himself and behaving.

Eliott’s parents’ house is located about twenty minutes away from the city, in a quiet neighborhood that doesn’t spark much at first glance; the two-story house itself is rather big and modern-looking, with slate rooftops, white walls and sharp edges. When they climb off the car, a beagle welcomes them, bouncing and enthusiastically yapping.

“Maia, come here,” Clémence calls out, tapping at her lap, and immediately the dog hurries to her side. She pets her a little, then she follows her mother inside, Lucas and Eliott trailing just behind, up the pathway to the front door.

The first thing that shocks Lucas once he steps inside is the nice smell, which, along with the pleasant warmth of the house, hits him in the face in the best kind of way. The entrance is facing the kitchen from across the hall, with the living-room on the left side and a staircase leading up to the upper floor directly to their right. There are a couple of pictures framed on the walls, on the way to the kitchen, or set on display on a console in the main entrance, and Lucas is sure he can spot Eliott on several of them, but he doesn’t dare to take a close look since everyone is already flocking in the kitchen.

As it turns out, Eliott’s mom well and truly seems to be the scariest parent of the two, because when he’s introduced to his boyfriend’s dad, he finds a smiling man in his fifties busy preparing lunch, and who apologies profusely because he needs to wash his hands before greeting him properly. The table is already set in the living-room, and the four of them sit down while Clémence is gone searching for her boyfriend Thomas.

“What is he even doing in the garage?” Caroline asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“He said he had to check something on Clémence’s car,” her husband, Olivier, supplies as he takes a seat next to her at the end of the table. So far, the only things Lucas can pinpoint in him that belongs to Eliott are probably the cheekbones and the sharp jawline, but it’s not like he’s spending his time staring either.

“Let’s hope he’s better with fixing cars than fixing a clogged bathtub,” she mutters. “Did we receive the papers from the insurance already?”

“I don’t think we should be expecting them until next week at best.”

Lucas can’t help himself and his eyes fly immediately to Eliott, who stares at his mother in return. “Mom, don’t start now, Thomas is fine.”

She smiles at him, and it doesn’t take much for Lucas to realize it’s her very special ‘Eliott’ smile. “Of course he is. But let’s be honest, it’s not like Clémence is going to spend the rest of her life with him.”

Lucas’ hands tighten on the edge of the table. What the fuck is he doing here? He doesn’t even know if he should cry or laugh at the situation right now. Cry, probably. Because if Caroline doesn’t really bet on her daughter’s long-term relationship to work out when both she and her boyfriend are fairly close from adulthood, _how on Earth would she bet on him_?

She’s _totally_ going to chew him and spit him out in a two-day span of time.

“Caro, they move in together in three months, get over it,” Olivier sighs, handing her the bread basket.

She seems about to argue when the door leading to the garage opens on Clémence, a tall guy with dark hair and a grey button-down following close-behind. His faded jeans are hanging low on his hips, probably lower than Caroline and Olivier like it on their son-in-law, and maybe it’s this tiny detail, or the massive GUESS stamped on his belt, or the way his hair is styled, but all of a sudden Lucas has no trouble at all to picture him in a Kaporal store.

His face breaks into a grin when his eyes trail on Lucas. “Oh, hey. I’m Thomas,” he says, holding out his hand.

Lucas stands up, careful not to make a mess between his chair and the carpet on the floor. He smiles back, shaking his hand a bit awkwardly. “Lucas,” he offers a bit uselessly. He’s spent less than an hour with the Demaurys but somehow it’s not that hard to think he’s been the hot topic for quite a while. For better or for worse.

“What were you talking about?” Clémence inquires, visibly suspicious, as she takes her seat next to Lucas, and Thomas places himself between his girlfriend and Olivier.

Eliott picks up a piece of bread from the basket and he hands it to Lucas. “The train ride. Boring.”

The lie rolls off so smoothly that Lucas can’t help but find it a bit hot. Clémence hums in response. “At least you got here in time. Last time my train got delayed for four hours.”

“And that’s why we ended up _driving_ for four hours to get here this time,” Thomas snarls.

Olivier passes around the crudités. “You should get your driving license too, Eli. The SNCF never stops failing, it could come in handy someday.”

Eliott shrugs. “There’s still the subway. And the bus. I don’t know what I’d do with a car.” And then he smiles, looking at Lucas who suddenly feels like his cheeks are heating faster than they should. “And I wouldn’t have met Lucas otherwise.”

Lucas knew it would suck to be at the other end of the table but he’s still unpleasantly surprised to feel so awkward under everyone’s glance when they all focus on him. He clears his throat. “We-uh, we met at a bus stop. After- uh, after school,” he explains, trying to keep his voice in check.

Eliott probably did it on purpose, judging by his bright grin that has nothing to do with the topic of the conversation.

“Oh, that’s sweet. So you didn’t know each other at all?” Clémence asks while she fills her plate.

“No,” Lucas answers honestly. “At least _I_ didn’t, but apparently Eliott’s got some great stalker skills.”

_Take that_ , he thinks, shooting a grin to Eliott. There’s something that glints into his boyfriend’s grey eyes and it makes his heart beat faster. “I bumped into him the moment I walked in, in January,” Eliott says nonchalantly, “I just kept an eye on him until we found ourselves together, is all. Besides, _you_ came to talk to me.”

Lucas snorts, and immediately he swallows back his smile when he remembers where he is.

Thomas frowns. “Weren’t you still with Lucille back in January?”

The smile on Lucas’ face vanishes for good and it’s stupid, really, because it’s not like he never thought she wouldn’t be brought up at any point, _ever_. She’d been dating Eliott for the past four years, so _of course_ it’s only natural that-

_Fuck that_ , he just wants to crawl into a hole. The worst part? He can distinctively feel that his mind is torn between guilt at the thought of having taken Lucille’s spot in a family that apparently liked her very much, and being completely aware that Lucille wasn’t the right person for Eliott.

“It was complicated,” Eliott mumbles. “Too complicated if you ask me. Everything’s much simpler with Lucas.”

“And that’s what should matter in the end,” Olivier intervenes. There’s a second of silence, then he smiles at Lucas, gesturing at the plate Clémence had set between them at some point when they were talking. “Lucas? Will you take some?”

*

**SAMEDI, 14:37**

After lunch, he’s dragged along with Eliott in a very long, very tiring, and very intense shopping session in a shopping area nearby, which gives him massive war flashbacks from his childhood. He’s spent _tons_ of afternoons like this, trailing behind his mom, occasionally whining because he was tired and wanted to go home while she kept filling shopping cart after shopping cart.

“Can’t we stay here?” Eliott asks after Caroline knocks on the door of his bedroom, literally five minutes after they got inside, to give them a heads up on the program.

“Honey, we barely ever get to see you. It’s going to be fun, you’ll see,” Caroline replies, and so Eliott caves in.

Since they can’t fit everyone in one car, Eliott and Lucas go with Clémence and Thomas, thus allowing him to catch a bit of a break.

As it turns out, shopping with his boyfriend instead of his parents is a bit more fun than he expected. It’s not the first time he’s going out with Eliott (aside from the occasional raid to the closest FNAC store every now and then, his boyfriend would sometimes drag him through all of his favorite record stores and Lucas would just watch Eliott rummage through them for hours without ever getting bored), but this time feels different, for some reason. They spend most of their time sharing jokes and decorating ideas while the whole family walks through IKEA.

“That kid is definitely called Stella,” Eliott says at one point when they walk by the nursery section, briefly stopping in front of a small area decorated with shades of pink and green. There are flowers laced together framing a round-shaped mirror, and plushy blankets in the white crib. “She lives with her single mom and her two aunts are always around to dote on her.”

Lucas quirks a brow, laughing. “Alright. What about this one?”

The following area is designed for a toddler, with a small bed instead of a crib and a tipi spilling toys on the floor in the corner. The various pieces of furniture are made of a light-colored wood that vaguely reminds him of bamboo. Eliott gives it a thought. “Esteban,” he says. “He’s been diagnosed with ADHD and his parents are always trying to follow him through all his activities even if they’re dying to get a quiet afternoon.”

Lucas huffs a laugh. “Okay, let me try.” Eliott gestures as if to say ‘be my guest’, and Lucas gets a look at the next one. The walls are painted light-grey, with wooden letters spelling the name _Lola_ on one of them and a white crib in the center. The large carpet is white with small baby foxes playing. “Well, she’s called Lola-”

“You must be tired already,” Eliott snickers and Lucas elbows him in the ribs.

“-and her parents have a dog that she’s constantly petting. She’s got those extra-expressive eyes and she’s always laughing.” He turns his head to the side and Eliott grins at him. “It’s not that hard.”

His boyfriend pulls him closer. “You forgot the most important part though.”

Lucas cranes his neck up. “Which is?”

“She’s got two daddies.” Eliott winks at him and Lucas flushes while he’s already sauntering away, tugging at his hand as he does so.

After IKEA, Clémence and Caroline head for another furniture store but Lucas and Eliott decline to follow, opting to wander around on their own instead. They stop by at Subway to grab a drink and settle on a bench outside, which is probably not the best option regarding the temperature, as Lucas quickly realizes. “Are you cold? We can go back inside,” Eliott suggests when he sees him shiver a bit.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Lucas waves. Eliott slides a bit closer and wraps his arms around him, which makes him feel warm but for another, much sappier reason than mere body temperature. He doesn’t mind people looking at them anymore — it barely ever gets to him now. He’s just happy with how things are, and he doesn’t think he could ask for more than that.

“Sorry about my parents, they’re a bit overwhelming. They like to do tons of stuff like this,” Eliott says. “I guess they forgot I can’t always deal with it.”

Lucas turns around in his arms, worried. “Are _you_ okay?”

Eliott tilts his head to the side. “Oh, yeah.” Then he smiles, cupping his face. “Yeah, it’s fine.” He pecks him on the lips, once, twice, before Lucas goes for a longer kiss.  

Eliott’s dad texts him not long after to agree on a gathering point, and they head to the spot, where the Demaurys suggest that they should have dinner at a restaurant, which makes Clémence snickers as soon as they climb in the car. “Mom can’t cook to save her life, be grateful Lucas.”

“I already got food poisoning from one member of the Demaury family,” he snorts as Thomas maneuvers through the parking lot, “but thanks for the tip.”

Clémence turns onto her seat. “Eli, what the hell did you do?”

“Why are you throwing me under the bus?” Eliott complains and Lucas tugs on his arm to kiss him on the cheek. “I made it with _love_.”

“I’m just kidding. And your eggs are great, generally.”

Eliott snorts.

“Still better than mom,” Clémence observes. “Once she put eggs in the microwave, it felt like we were reenacting that scene from the _Gremlins_ movie. Luckily we had dad growing up. Not sure we would have made it otherwise.”


	2. Dimanche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for your kind comments here and on tumblr!  
> it really means a lot 🤗💕

**DIMANCHE, 9:56**

“Lucas. Lulu, baby, wake up.”

The mattress underneath him dips a little, shortly before he starts feeling soft touches along his cheek and a warm hand running up and down his side. He can only humph in response, mouth a bit slack. His brain is foggy, but everything feels pleasantly warm and comfortable.

He doesn’t want to wake up.

He _doesn’t_.

Does he even need to? _Nah_. He doesn’t bother opening his eyes before rolling onto his side and throwing his arms around Eliott. His boyfriend huffs a chuckle when Lucas presses his mouth in the curve of his neck, and soon two long arms wrap around his frame.

“Lulu, you might want to rethink that,” Eliott whispers, a hint of tease lingering in his voice when Lucas pushes himself a bit more, feeling bold enough to press him down in the mattress.

“Why,” Lucas eventually hums, mouthing the word against the skin of his neck. He still hasn’t opened his eyes and he isn’t planning on doing so any time soon.

“Because everybody’s up and it’s just a matter of time until one of them barges in.”

Lucas’ eyes shoot open, blinking for a few seconds as everything slowly starts to fall back into place. It’s definitely not the bedroom he’s used to at Eliott’s flat, he gathers as he glances to the side. Much bigger, with a lot fewer drawings and a lot fewer obscure indie-rock bands posters (none, actually) on the walls.

Oh. _Right._

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Lucas lets himself slide down next to Eliott while the latter finds nothing better to do than to laugh.

“It’s okay, I just didn’t want you to start something you can’t finish,” he grins, kissing him soundly on the cheek. “I know how frustrated you can get when it happens.”

Lucas scoffs. Like he’s any better whenever someone tries to cockblock him. They haven’t done anything together since Thursday and Lucas can’t believe he’s reduced to counting the days now, which is entirely Eliott’s fault — he’s the one who let him grow spoiled, after all.

He rubs his eyes with his fists while Eliott props himself up onto his elbow, curling against his side. “I second my statement from last night, your mom _definitely_ did everything she could to tire us enough so that we wouldn’t have any other choice but to sleep last night.”

When they got back from the restaurant the night before, it was barely half-past ten but he was so exhausted that he barely managed to take a shower and wrap himself in the blankets before falling sound asleep — he doesn’t even recall Eliott laying down next to him, or even sharing a goodnight kiss with him. Dinner was fun, overall. Everybody was a bit more relaxed, starting with Lucas, and halfway through the main course, Clémence and Eliott started a childhood stories contest that she only won due to an impressive amount of blackmail material she had directly on her phone — he _needed_ that picture of six-year-old Eliott grinning broadly with a missing front-tooth and his chubby face covered with bread crumbs and Nutella. Olivier started rambling about the nonsense that are history programs in middle school after his third glass of wine, and Thomas made a list of the most obnoxious customers he ever came across in the past year only. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be young and full of life?” Eliott teases, pocking him in the ribs.

He cranes his head up and looks at him straight in the eye. “I’m young and full of life for _lots_ of things, and some can even cause me to have trouble walking the next day, but shopping isn’t one of them.”

Eliott smirks, pulling him close until one of Lucas’ legs is thrown across his lap. “I don’t remember you being so cocky yesterday.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Lucas mumbles.

 

**DIMANCHE, 10:44**

It takes Eliott about five minutes to assure and reassure him that even _if_ any member of the Demaury family spots him walking down the hall in a tee-shirt and his underwear they wouldn't bat an eye, before he musters enough courage to head to the bathroom they share with Clémence and Thomas for the weekend to take a shower. He makes it there without meeting anybody, which isn’t surprising considering the noises he can hear coming from downstairs. Clémence and her father seem to be talking about something, Thomas occasionally joining in, amidst various sounds of chairs rattling the ground and tableware clinking against the table.

If he thought it was a good idea to look like he was willing to socialize with the rest of the family while Eliott takes his turn in the bathroom, he’s rethinking that all of a sudden when he spots Caroline sitting by herself at the breakfast table, flipping the pages of a magazine.

“Good morning,” she greets him when she spots him at the entrance of the living-room.

“Good morning.” Does his voice sound so scratchy usually or is this just because he can’t seem to keep his nerves in check? He welcomes the mug of coffee she hands him before sitting down, and they remain silent for a while. It’s not really _uncomfortable_ per se, but he’d just like for his boyfriend to speed things up in the bathroom.

“Is Eliott up as well?” she asks without looking up from the glossy paper.

“Uh, yes. He’s in the shower. Maybe even dressing up now.”

There’s another silence. Lucas picks one of the mugs waiting for them on the center of the table, then pours himself some coffee before sitting down. He chews onto his bottom lip, eyes fixated onto his mug, before taking a tentative sip.

_Eliott, if you love me-_

“Look, Lucas, I know you probably think I don’t like you-,” Caroline starts off, and Lucas is too caught off-guard to swallow correctly, so he ends up spitting out in his mug and practically coughing a lung out.

Where is Eliott when he needs him?

_Where is everyone?_

“I- I don’t- It’s _not_ -,” he sputters, voice wavering under Caroline’s intense grey stare.

“It doesn’t matter because that’s not the case,” she cuts him off. “I think you’re polite and well-behaved and you don’t come off as a misfit, which I’m relieved about. But there’s one thing you need to understand, and it’s that for the past few months, I had no clue about any of this.” She stares at him and he’s completely clueless about what is going to happen to him if no one fucking shows up. He’s so nervous he almost lets out a ‘care to elaborate?’ but he manages to hold it back just as she starts talking again: “I didn’t know what you looked like. What was your full name. What kind of kid you were, what kind of person my son was spending his time with. It’s not easy for me to trust blindly, especially since the first time ever we heard about you was after-”

_The houseboat_ , his brain supplies for her. His grip is tightening around his mug and he wonders briefly if there’s a risk, any risk at all, for it to explode between his hands. Not that he’s got so much strength, he just thinks that the timing for ending up in the hospital would be convenient enough.

She leans a little forward, resting her elbows onto the edge of the table and folding her hands like a school counselor. “I’m not saying what happened is because of you, Lucas, I mean it. And from what I’ve seen, if only for a couple of hours, Eliott looks happier with you than he’s been in ages. But-” She sighs and her voice trails off a little. “I don’t know, Lucille has her flaws. But she was reliable, at least to me. I wouldn’t have let my Eliott go back to Paris on his own if she hadn’t been there to check on him when we couldn’t.”

There’s an awful lot of things he wants to say, but he’s not sure about where to start.

“Eliott isn’t my job, you know,” he hears himself saying, and he dares to look up. “He’s my boyfriend. As in, I don’t take care of him, we take care of each other.” He glances down at his coffee mug. “We didn’t… rush this meeting because- well, at least on my part, I was just meeting my boyfriend’s family. I wasn’t some- some _nurse_ taking an appointment with the family of my patient the weekend after he- I don’t know, after he entered a ward or whatever.” When he looks back at Caroline, she seems to be genuinely listening to what he’s got to say, and he takes it as a cue to be honest. “I didn’t mean to make you freak out, and I don’t mean to sound petty, but I think that’s the difference between Lucille and me. Eliott’s got a therapist already, he doesn’t need one at home.”

A loud noise echoes from behind where Lucas is sitting, just as Caroline seems about to say something, and they both turn their head at the same time, just to see Clémence emerging from the doorframe leading to the garage. “Mom, I can’t find Maia’s food, where did you stock it again?”

Caroline sighs heavily and stands up, walking up to her. “I told you, behind the car.”

“Well, I can’t find it,” Clémence shrugs and her mom mutters something as she bypasses her to enter the garage. Eliott’s sister turns on her heels while the door shuts closed, quirking a brow. “Oh, hey. Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Lucas smiles tightly and nods. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Caroline’s voice echoes faintly from the other room and Clémence joins her, leaving Lucas alone to reflect on what the hell just happened. Does that mean what he thinks it means?

Eliott’s mom hates him.

Worse. She doesn’t _trust_ him.

All of Basile’s great speeches are very hard to get behind now.

“Where’s everyone?” Lucas’ head snaps up, just in time to receive the peck on the lips Eliott was going for, before sliding in the seat next to him.

He clears his throat. “Uh, I don’t really know. Your sister and your mom are in the garage but that’s all I know.” His heart melts a little bit at the sight of his boyfriend’s messy hair, still a bit damp from his shower. “What are the plans for today?”, he asks nonchalantly while Eliott is pouring himself some coffee, his body naturally shifted in his direction, just like every time they are sitting next to each other.

(All things considered, it’s a bit of a relief, he guesses, that Eliott is older and that they don’t share classes together, otherwise that would have made for an awful lot of agonizing hours spent drowning into each other’s eyes, and very few notes at the end of the day to catch up on all the stuff they didn’t bother listening.)

Eliott shrugs. “No idea. I guess it’s only a matter of time until mom finds an idea that doesn’t involve you and me and my bedroom.” He sets his mug on the table, pouting. “Which is a shame if you ask me.”

Lucas snorts. “What happened to the ‘someone might walk in on us’? Your bedroom doesn’t even have a lock if I remember correctly.”

“The bathroom does.” Eliott leans forward, resting an arm behind his back on the backrest of his chair. There’s a mischievous gleam in his eyes and somehow, Lucas already knows what he’s about to say. “I’d have asked you to join but my neighbors can attest you’re the loud kind.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck off,” he groans, shoving him away when Eliott chuckles and tries to kiss him.

 

**DIMANCHE, 15:18**

The beginning of the afternoon rolls around quickly, quicker than Lucas thought when he was still trying to picture what they would be doing for 48h, all six of them. Olivier and Caroline are gone to some exhibition and Clémence convinced the three boys to go for a walk around the neighborhood, taking Maia with them. Lunch was a bit awkward, at least on his part; he didn’t talk much, and every time Caroline started speaking up he felt like she was back at lecturing him. Eliott probably sensed there was something going on in his head because halfway through it he rested a hand onto his tight and left it there.

They’ve been walking for roughly fifteen minutes, Clémence and Thomas leading the way, Lucas and Eliott following a few meters behind, but for some reason, Maia keeps getting distracted and circling back their way, so Clémence asks for Eliott to do something about it and come with her.

“You insisted on taking her,” Eliott protests, sounding vaguely irritated, and Lucas can feel the arm he’s thrown around his shoulders tightening ever so slightly.

“But she likes you,” Clémence shrugs.

“She likes everyone who’s _new_.”

Lucas laughs when Maia punctuates Eliott’s statement with a happy yapping, tail wagging enthusiastically as she watches his boyfriend with warm, expectant eyes. Eliott eventually surrenders and joins Clémence, taking the spot Thomas leaves him on the narrow sidewalk.

He doesn’t think much of it at first, his eyes fixated on Eliott’s frame while he’s bickering quietly with Clémence a few meters ahead, until Thomas calls him, apparently purposefully slowing their pacing down. “Clem told me Caroline talked to you,” he says, slowly making his way to where Lucas is standing. “And when I say ‘talked’ I mean... you know.”

_Ah_ , he thinks. _So that’s an ambush_. _Great_.

He hums. “Yeah. I thought I was off the hook, guess I was wrong.”

“Bah, don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine,” Thomas shrugs, and they resume their walk. “I mean, what’s the worst she could do? She doesn’t even live in the same town as you guys. The in-laws, you make do with them, but they aren’t those you spend your time with in the end.”

Lucas groans, shoving his hands in the deep end of his pockets. “I don’t care if she doesn’t _like_ me. I just don’t like that she’s taking Eliott’s disorder as a cue to pry in and decide who’s a match and who isn’t for him.”

Thomas’ pace falters, and he starts to laugh. Lucas scowls at him. “Dude, you chose _Eliott_ ,” he grins, and he has the audacity to sound like it’s one of the funniest things he’s heard in a long time. “You’re even lucky Caroline let you sleep in the same room for the weekend.”

“Not sure to follow,” he grits out.

Clémence’s boyfriend shakes his head. “Look, the first time I came around after Clem and I started dating, two years ago, I literally got _two_ words from Eliott, ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. At some point I told Clem ‘what the fuck is his problem?’, and she got so mad at me, she started yelling that I was a jerk. I had no idea he was having a low low, he hadn’t been diagnosed yet back then, but…,” he huffs, waving a bit with his hand, “yeah, long story short, I almost got dumped after thirty-six hours with the Demaurys and a comment on Clem’s precious baby brother. You can’t do worse than that.”

Lucas glances up at him, and it shouldn’t be so annoying that the whole world is taller than he is given that he’s got other problems to worry about (other problems he can _do_ something about), but it’s just adding some salt onto his wounded pride than Thomas looks like he’s walking with his eight-year-old son. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

_Because so far it doesn’t work_ , he adds to himself.

“Of course! Look, Caroline’s just being extra because Eliott is the _baby_. It was this way long before shit hit the fan with him, and he’s gonna be old and wrinkled before it changes. I’m telling you, it’s gonna be fine. Don’t get all twisted up,” he concludes, punctuating with a shrug.

 

**DIMANCHE, 16:02**

They start gathering their stuff shortly after coming back from their walk, which ended up dragging out a bit. Eliott eventually took Maia with him and Lucas took Clémence’s spot, and there may or may not be one (or five) insta story to acknowledge how domestic they were. While he’s making sure he’s not forgetting something stupid (like a phone charger or the tee-shirt he wears to sleep), he takes an extra minute to give a proper look at the pictures framed in the hallway of the first floor: Clémence and Eliott in their pajamas on a Christmas morning, a tiny Eliott hugging tight a dog that might have been thrice his size, a teen Clémence on the beach with her dad…

It makes him smile. Sometimes it bugs him when he tries to think about the number of memories he’s never had and will never have, growing up as an only child, but he tries not to think about it too much. It’s like his size, it’s not like he can much about it.

“That’s not fair, I’ve never seen any baby picture of you,” Eliott protests, stepping close.

Lucas shrugs. “I don’t know where they are.” Probably stocked in the furniture storage unit with the rest of his mom’s stuff, though. Officially the clinic isn’t a long-term solution for her, and that’s why they’ve been storing everything for the day things get better, but it feels like he’s been forever. He shakes himself out of his thoughts and points at the picture with the dog. “That one is adorable.”

Eliott smiles, ducking his head to rest his chin onto his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s Brigand. We had him until I was, I don’t know, maybe seven, eight? My parents got him after they got married. Then he died and they said they didn’t want any more pets while they would be living in Paris.”

“Makes sense. I can’t even begin to imagine how much of a pain in the ass it’d be,” Lucas concedes. “Imagine having to wake up at seven on a Sunday in the middle of winter.”

“You wake me up at seven on Sunday.”

“I don’t need you to pee.”

Eliott quirks a brow, looking unimpressed. “What about that time you managed to get your zipper stuck?”

“Oh, sure, as if you would have appreciated to find Mika kneeling in front of me,” Lucas retorts, spinning around to get back to the bedroom, Eliott’s laugh accompanying all the way.

**DIMANCHE, 17:49**

The train ride back home is quiet.

Lucas doesn’t mind, he even finds himself smiling from time to time as relief starts gaining him.

The weekend isn’t exactly a success, and it’s not like Caroline Demaury will magically become his number one fan any time soon, but he’s fine with it as long as she doesn’t actively try to mess with him — and since she didn’t throw him under a train when they were all gathered onto the platform, he kinda hopes it might change someday.

Eliott doesn’t speak much, only nodding and humming responses.

Lucas offers him an earbud at some point, and Eliott takes it; it’s a kind of connection that is enough when the silence settles in. After the end of the third song, Eliott shifts in his seat, moving a little bit closer from the window, and that’s when Lucas picks up on it. It’s subtle; it’s in the way Eliott has to make himself smaller than he is, as though he could be swallowed by the seat of their carriage. It’s in the way he has to pull at the sleeves of his hoodie until only the tip of his fingers is visible.

Lucas shuffles a little bit closer. “You okay?”

Eliott doesn’t answer at first, then he slowly turns his head towards him. “I’m glad to come home,” he says. “It’s always- a lot to take in. A lot to… I don’t know. To process, I guess.” He pauses, looking away. “It’s not so much because I’m not okay. It’s just-” He bites down onto his bottom lip. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like they don’t get me the way you do.”

He eventually glances at him and Lucas doesn’t say anything; he simply nods, then presses a small kiss onto his shoulder. They spend the rest of the ride in silence, but it’s fine.

It’s around 8 when they enter Gare-de-Lyon, and this time it’s Lucas who takes it upon himself to direct Eliott through the flow of people, until they leave the platform and head outside the train station to wait at a bus stop that will bring them to Eliott’s place. They had originally planned to spend the night apart, so that Lucas could go back to the flatshare and benefit from clean clothes and a spared hour or two to get some homework done, but a single glance from Eliott is enough for Lucas to throw away literally any plan he’s ever made — and he can still wake up at 5 if he really needs to go back to the flat before school.

“Home sweet home,” he sing-songs as they make their way inside, once they’ve finally reached Eliott’s place after the bus ride.

Following Eliott’s lead, he lets his backpack slide off his shoulder in the entrance, then gets rid of his pair of sneakers, reaching out to grab his phone from the console standing next to the door. It takes him a few seconds before he decides to text Mika, only to be civil enough and warn him he won’t be back tonight. It’s not like his roommate will _particularly_ look for him, or even call the police if he checks on him and discovers that his bedroom is empty of any living soul, but still. He rapidly scrolls through the group chat with the guys, if only because he knows he won’t have the courage to go through the 300+ notifications, and types away a quick ‘we’re back and I may or may not sleep for a week’, then turns off his phone before he gets an answer.

He walks in the living room, shoving his phone into his back pocket. “You wanna eat something? It’s still early we could-” His voice trails off. “Eliott?”

His boyfriend doesn’t move an eyelid from where he’s sitting on the couch, with his head resting on the edge of the backrest. His breathing remains slow and even and Lucas smiles, even if it’s only for him to see. Call him cheesy, but deep down, there’s something that tells him Eliott doesn’t need to see him to know — just like he doesn’t need to say things for him to know how he feels. He pads closer, and being careful not to wake him up, he sits next to him, snaking an arm around Eliott’s midsection and curling against his side.

His neck will give him hell for that stupid idea tomorrow.

But somehow it’s worth it, he thinks as he closes his eyes.


End file.
